


Drarry Drabbles & One-Shots

by lunaria697



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Escapril, Flash Fic, Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing, Last Drabble Writer Standing, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-01 05:11:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaria697/pseuds/lunaria697
Summary: Here is a place to put all the Drarry drabbles and short (<1k) one-shots I write. Bite-sized, but lots of feels, lots of snark, lots of love. Come enjoy if you're in the mood for a snack!





	1. (Draco Malfoy and the Case of the) Counterfeit Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is from the Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing (LDWS) 2015. 
> 
> Prompt: “Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.” -Albus Dumbledore 
> 
> Required word count: exactly 320 words. 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

Draco heard a commotion and poked his head out of the cramped office he shared with two other clerical assistants. Tired of pushing papers for the Wizengamot Administration, he welcomed a distraction. 

He saw a few bedraggled Aurors making their way slowly past him, on their way to the Head Auror's office. Raucous shouting and hearty congratulations surrounded them. 

Draco unthinkingly sought out unmistakable green eyes and unruly black hair. He saw the exhaustion and the elation in Harry's expression and knew better than anyone how much Harry had suffered over this case. He ached with an impossible urge to share in this moment, to tell Harry that he understood, and to assure him that he deserved this success more than anybody.

“Nice job, Potter,” was the best he could manage when Harry was within feet of him. Harry made fleeting eye contact, barely an acknowledgment, and Draco's chest clenched with the pain of it.

He turned his back to Draco and called out. “You lot better come celebrate at the Leaky tonight.”

Draco wouldn't go. He wouldn't let Harry's indifference towards him torment him outside of the Ministry as well. 

As things go, Draco found himself buying a round of pints at the Leaky Cauldron several hours later. When he turned away from the bar someone jostled him, and he fell straight into Potter. Amid a fluster of limbs and apologies, Potter managed a smooth “it's alright; no harm done” and turned to leave. 

Draco crumpled inside. He would rather the biting remarks and unbridled enmity of their youth than this distant apathy. “Potter,” he said, grabbing his arm. “You've got beer all down your front. Just let me bloody fix it. I know you're pants at cleansing charms.”

Potter didn't answer immediately, his attention apparently caught by Draco's touch. Draco watched in shock as a blush diffused across Potter's cheeks. 

“Alright,” Potter said finally, and Draco's heart soared.


	2. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HD LDWS 2015 Week 2
> 
> Prompt: "Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." — Albus Dumbledore
> 
> Required word count: 275 – 375 words.

Draco hurried down the dimly lit hallway. He had a purpose. What was it again? 

“Draco, you are wasting my time,” Lucius called impatiently. Oh yes, he wanted to discuss the upcoming charity ball. 

“Sorry, father,” he appeased as he entered the study, but Lucius was not there. Draco frowned. 

He turned to leave and noticed something curious scrawled on the door. “You have betrayed our heritage,” he read aloud. The words stung, but Draco was unsure why. Surely the words were not meant for him. He had never betrayed his father. Right? Something niggled at the back of his mind, but a “pop” distracted him. 

“Master is calling Pokey, sir?” the house elf inquired. 

Draco gestured to the scrawl on the door. “Remove this tarnish at once.”

“Right away, Master Draco, sir,” she shrilled. A second later, “sir, the words is not coming off.”

Irritated, Draco turned, but the reprimand caught in his throat. The script had transformed into an angry red, glowing and pulsing with disdain. Draco gasped as it peeled away from the door and shot towards him. The pain was insurmountable as each letter etched itself into the skin surrounding his Dark Mark. 

“Draco,” a faraway voice called urgently to him. 

Draco started. Potter? What was Potter doing in the manor? “I’m in the study,” he replied, ignoring the way his voice trembled. 

“Draco, come here.”

Draco took off down the hallway at a run, imaginary shadows with hateful red eyes pursuing him. 

He rounded a corner and ran headlong into Potter. He knew it was Potter because the familiar scent of ink and sweat treacle tart danced along his senses. Potter wrapped his arms around Draco and squeezed so hard that Draco couldn’t breathe. He struggled in the grasp, desperate for air. 

Draco woke up. 

“Harry, you’re suffocating me,” he gasped out. 

“Sorry! You were having a nightmare.” Worried green eyes peered into his. “Are you stressed about tomorrow?” 

Tomorrow. Their wedding day. 

“You know I would do anything for you, right?” Harry continued. 

At those words, Draco felt all the tension and fear from the dream leave his body. He smiled. “Go back to sleep, Scarhead. I won’t have you ruining tomorrow by yawning through the ceremony.”


	3. A Fresh Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HD LDWS 2015 Week 4
> 
> Prompt: "We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided." — Albus Dumbledore 
> 
> Required word count: 145 – 160 words

The Dark Lord had fallen, and Draco still could not believe it. 

He huddled between his parents at the now-unfamiliar Slytherin table. Narcissa gripped his hand like a clamp, but he barely noticed. Hogwarts was destroyed, and Draco thought he must know what that feels like – broken and numb to the point where nothing feels real anymore. 

Nothing except – Draco’s gaze shot up to find Harry Potter staring at him with curious, green eyes. He felt tendrils of Potter’s confident, empathetic magic nudge his own in invitation. It’s never too late to start over, it seemed to say. We forgive you.

In that vulnerable moment, as he watched Potter’s friends and allies comfort each other, Draco understood why the Dark Lord had fallen. And with sudden clarity he knew what path he must take next.

“Come, Draco,” Lucius said, standing.

Draco followed mutely, his head swirling with plans of the future and images of encouraging green eyes.


	4. A Different Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HD LDWS 2015 Week 5
> 
> Prompt: "Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." — Albus Dumbledore 
> 
> Required word count: 200 – 225 words
> 
> This was one of my favorites to write. I hope you enjoy it! ♥

Draco stood at the border of the Forbidden Forest. 

He clenched and unclenched his left fist, willing his muscles to relax. His right hand gripped his wand and unconsciously tapped a staccato beat against his thigh. 

Somewhere behind him, that oaf Hagrid was talking about red and green sparks but Draco didn’t hear. A silvery puddle shimmered at the corner of his vision but he pointedly ignored it.

The limbs of the forest shook and swayed towards Draco like vicious Grindylow tentacles, and he was certain that howling was a werewolf and not the wind. Shadows jumped and danced like menacing Chimaeras stalking their prey. 

Draco took a deep breath, but it came out in a rough whoosh. 

He risked a glance at Potter, and met confident green eyes.

“What are you looking at, Scarhead?” Draco lashed out, glad for a release. 

Potter shrugged, and Draco wondered why he didn’t seem afraid. Instead, Potter looked ready. He lightly bounced on the balls of his feet, with his shoulders back and his head up. He held his wand in a steady grip. 

Draco glanced back at the forest. Could it really be that exciting? 

As he considered the possibility, he felt his heart pound to a steadier beat and the blood course through his ears.

“Let’s go,” Hagrid said.

He was about to find out.


	5. A New Leaf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HD LDWS 2015 Week 7
> 
> Prompt: "It is our choices that show us who we truly are, far more than our abilities." — Albus Dumbledore 
> 
> Required word count: 145 words exactly
> 
> So I actually lost in Week 6, but I loved the prompt for Week 7 so I wrote it anyways just for fun. :) I also kind of hate what I wrote for Week 6 so I'm not posting it here, but if you really want to read it you can find it on my DreamWidth or LiveJournal, same username. 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

“Hey boss, look who we found skulking around the corner.”

Draco turned in horror to see two of Malum’s henchman dragging a bound Potter behind them. 

“Well now, Malfoy.” Malum’s tone was calm, but his beet-red face betrayed his anger. “We have long suspected a traitor in our midst. How odd that Auror Potter is never far from our meetings.”

Draco saw Malum go for his wand, and whipped his own from its holster. 

He opened his mouth with the Killing Curse on the tip of his tongue. It was the easiest way out of this. Malum was the only other person who knew the full extent of his crimes. Crimes that Potter didn’t even know about. Potter, that endearing sod with his odd and overbearing commitment to Draco’s transition into a reputable line of business.

Draco pointed his wand at Malum and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”


	6. A Fresh Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escapril 2019 Day 1
> 
> Prompt: A fresh start
> 
> Word count: no more than 399
> 
> Happy April! I've decided to participate in Savannah Brown's Escapril this month with Drarry drabbles, and using a number generator for word count requirements. 
> 
> Would love to see more writers in the fandom participating; comment if you post something so I can read it! ♥

A familiar grief wells in Harry as he catches sight, again, of the photos of The Order set in gleaming mahogany frames and hung in the main hallway. His eyes are drawn as if by magnet to the lively, determined faces of those he won’t meet again, and something in his chest clenches tightly. 

After the war, he had thrown himself into repairing anything he could – the crumbling Hogwarts castle, the corrupt Ministry, his friends’ sadness, the entire wizarding world if he could – as if by repairing everything else he could somehow repair himself too. He knew he needed to slow down and mourn and process – and the increasingly worried looks from Ron and Hermione told him they knew it too – but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when he still owed the dead so much. 

Hermione had told him he had a chance at a fresh start. He had been given his NEWTs and no longer had anyone controlling the direction his life went, she reasoned. To hell with people’s expectations of The Boy Who Lived Twice, Ron had agreed. But it wasn’t that simple. Harry had lived his whole life putting the needs of others above his own.

His gaze moves to his photo self, and he sees a face yet unlined with grief and a boy determined to face impossible odds. He’s standing with his godfather’s arm draped meaningfully around Harry’s shoulder. Sirius’ other arm wraps around Remus, his expression both affectionate and pained, and Harry wonders if he was thinking about the first time they took this photo with the original members. He wonders if the old photo had been just as painful a reminder of what Sirius lost as this new one is to Harry.

“Paperwork doesn’t write itself, Potter.” A familiar, haughty voice startles Harry out of his thoughts. Before he can react, a steaming mug is thrust into his hands which he hadn’t realized were clenched tightly into his half-buttoned Auror robes. Knowing, steel gray eyes meet his, and a brow quirks as if in challenge. “It does not do to dwell on dreams, Potter.” His partner huffs before pushing open the door to their shared office and gesturing Harry inside. 

Harry allows himself a small smile as the mug warms his palms. If Draco Malfoy of all people could have a fresh start, maybe Harry could have one too.


	7. April Showers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escapril Day 2
> 
> Prompt: April Showers
> 
> I got really into the moment and decided to forgo the word count on this one, so it's longer than my normal drabble. Hope you like it! ♥

Draco stood and let the rain pelt him. It might have felt nice if it wasn’t so bloody cold. But he was too exhausted after the raid to manage a proper drying charm and his usually pristine Unspeakable robes were in tatters anyway. He scowled up at the sky.

“Draco,” a whisper tickled his ear, warm breath ghosting across his skin causing him to shudder involuntarily. 

He closed his eyes at the intimate use of his given name, and when he opened them again he found himself staring into impossibly green eyes. Draco felt Potter’s excess magic floating around them lazily. He could get drunk on the heady feeling of Potter’s magic, he realized. It had become a familiar presence; one which he would miss now that the case was over and they would go back to the occasional, awkward hello in the atrium, Draco thought bitterly. There was no reason for Potter to voluntarily associate with an ex-Death Eater.

Potter smiled brightly at him, his movements big and energetic, still full of adrenaline from the raid, and Draco swallowed. All of the feelings he’d managed to compartmentalize, everything he had danced around the last three weeks as their teams had worked together on this case came crashing forward. Want surged through him so forcefully that he bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted copper. 

“Congrats, Potter. We caught the bad guys,” he said. 

“We did,” Potter agreed with a laugh. “Listen,” he said, bumping his shoulder against Draco’s. “Everyone is going to the Leaky after this to celebrate.” Draco watched Potter’s tongue dart out to lick his lips nervously. “You’ll join, right?”

Draco took a moment to answer. He would love nothing more than to spend more time with Potter, engaging in the easy banter they’d settled into, but he knew it was just delaying the inevitable. “No,” he said after tearing his eyes away from Potter’s lips. “This was actually quite exhausting. I’ll just head back to mine after I put in the paperwork.” He stretched and yawned to prove his point. “I think I deserve a bubble bath after all this.”

“Oh. I mean, I didn’t—I don’t have to…” Potter was looking anywhere but at Draco as he stumbled over his words.

“Spit it out, Potter.”

“Right. Would you like to come back to mine instead? I have a nice bath that never gets any use.” He finally made eye contact with Draco, and then upon seeing his horrified expression, quickly added, “Or yours is fine too.”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you want to come to my flat?” 

“What?” Potter looked surprised. “Fuck, Draco, maybe I’ve been reading the signals all wrong, but haven’t we been dancing around this for weeks?”

Draco didn’t dare hope. “Dancing around what?” he asked, thanking Merlin his voice came out evenly. 

Potter ran a hand through his hair, causing it to look even more unruly. Draco quelled the urge to flatten it. “You’re really going to make me say it?” Potter stepped closer until the buttons on their uniforms were almost touching, and Draco could feel Potter’s heat radiating off him. 

Draco shrugged a shoulder, unable to tear his eyes away from heady green ones.

“Draco,” Potter said, but his voice caught and his eyes darkened. He reached out to touch Draco’s cheek, and Draco sucked in a breath, unable to move, unable to believe this was truly happening. 

Potter slowly leaned forward until their lips were centimeters apart. Draco closed the gap. The kiss was sloppy and full of unsaid things and left both of them breathless when they finally pulled apart. 

Potter flashed him a lopsided grin. “You’re wet,” he said, pushing Draco’s dripping hair behind his ears. A wave of magic followed that left Draco almost as breathless as the kiss, and Draco found himself warm and dry.

“Yes, well, let’s do your place then,” Draco finally answered Potter’s original question with a smile.


	8. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escapril Day 4
> 
> Prompt: anxiety

The world tilted and blurred, and Draco tried not to fall with it. His deep breath got stuck in his throat, chest constricted, tight and painful, the pressure like a bundle of Kneazles scratching to get out, and he didn’t know whether he would yell or vomit. 

The angry voices around him muffled as he shut them out, eyes squeezed closed, wishing the ground would swallow him up, wishing his magic wasn’t so useless, wishing _he_ wasn’t so useless. He tried to continue walking – if he could just reach his destination, somehow this would be okay – but his next step buckled under him, and he felt himself falling, infinitely falling as if time had paused to savor his embarrassment. 

And then strong hands were on him, pulling him up, supporting him, shielding him. Someone was speaking – yelling, rather angrily, Draco thought – at the crowd and their sudden hushed silence told him they felt properly chastised. 

As his wits slowly came back about him and he wondered who he owed this time (would his debts never cease growing?), a familiar voice spoke into his ear and Draco retched. _Of all bloody people._

“Can you walk?” the voice repeated, and Draco nodded not trusting himself to speak, not trusting himself to meet those green eyes he could feel piercing through him, seeing everything Draco tried to keep hidden. “Out of the way!” Draco wondered why he sounded angry, as if on Draco’s behalf. 

But the crowd parted, and Draco allowed himself to be led to the nearest shop, which with Draco’s fabulous luck turned out to be Wheezes. They entered through a side door, and Draco was placed gently on a worn but soft couch inside. He curled his hands underneath him to stop the trembling that was always the last to subside.

“Draco,” softly this time.

Draco finally made eye contact, his expression nettled and barbed. If he saw even an ounce of pity in those stupidly green eyes—but there was only fierce concern that caused Draco to recoil in surprise. 

“Potter.” He raised his chin, but the usual fight was gone from his voice. 

“You get panic attacks.” It sounded like a confession even though it didn’t come from Draco’s lips. Draco didn’t reply, and Potter gingerly sat next to him. “I get them too sometimes,” he said quietly. “When I wake up from the nightmares.”

Draco still said nothing, didn’t trust anything that might fall from his lips.

Harry continued, “It’s okay, you know. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rested his hand on Draco’s knee and looked into Draco’s eyes, piercingly, fiercely. “You’re not alone, Draco.”

Draco managed a jolting nod which must have been what Harry was looking for because then he smiled and relaxed back into the cushions. 

“Why don’t you come ‘round for tea at my place tomorrow afternoon?”

Draco found his voice. “Why? If you intend to take me on as a another one of your _charity cases_ —”

“No. That’s definitely not it, Draco.” He cleared his throat. “I’d actually been meaning to owl you anyways. I thought we could try being friends. Put our school stuff behind us.”

Draco’s face twisted with suspicion and old habits, but the heat of Harry’s hand still resting on his knee surged through him, and he let a new feeling peek through. Hope. He found himself nodding slowly. “Okay, Potter. Just for tea,” he felt the need to clarify.

Harry grinned at him, and Draco couldn’t help smiling back.


	9. Wrackspurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escapril Day 5: back to nature
> 
> Luna is my favorite character, and I absolutely enjoyed trying to get in her head for this one. Enjoy!

Luna watched Draco. Watched the way he pulled his fingers through the grass, the way his foot tapped to a silent beat, the way he huffed quietly, his mouth quirked into a half smile while staring up at the stars.

She twisted on the blanket next to him. “Love is a nice feeling,” she agreed with all the things in the air that Draco hadn’t thought to voice yet.

He turned to her sharply, coughing a bit as he did, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

She smiled and passed him her thermos, filled with warm lilymander tea, for his cough. 

“Who said anything about love?” 

“You did.”

“I haven’t told anyone…” he trailed off when Luna continued to smile serenely at him. “Fine,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Who am I in love with, then?”

Luna turned her eyes back to the stars, humming as she thought. “The Wrackspurts never lie,” she said finally. “They’re always nearby when you’re with Harry.” She glanced at Draco whose face was impassive, but his fingers curled tightly around her thermos. She took it from him gently and sat up to pour them both a cup. “You’re not the only one attracting Wrackspurts,” she said knowingly.

He looked at her strangely and accepted the mug she proffered. “Do you think…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what Harry thinks. But Harry is a good person, just like you are, Draco.” She took a sip of tea and sighed happily to herself. “And the Wrackspurts never lie.”


End file.
